Chapter Twelve

The years spent at Hogwarts were always filled with excitement and wonder, but no matter how stimulating life was, the passage of time was stronger. Looking back, Draco could no longer remember each and every individual event, seeing his time at Hogwarts for the most part as simply a period where he was foolishly happy, but try as he might, there was one event he could never forget.

It was the beginning of their fifth year, during a Physical Education class. The students were led out to the gym, where nets were strung up throughout the space and where tubes of birdies and rackets were passed around. They were going to be playing badminton.

Draco lifted his racket and gave it a few experimental swipes, his lips quirking into a smile at the crisp sound it made as it whisked through the air. He wasn't the greatest badminton player in the world, but he was athletic enough that the sport didn't pose too much of a challenge. After warming up, he should be able to easily beat at least half the class.

"Pair up and start rallying!" Madame Hooch called.

The gym was filled immediately with the sound of chattering as friends teamed up, found empty courts, and began to practice. Draco nodded at Blaise. The two of them picked up a tube of birdies, made their way to an empty court, and got to work.

Right at that moment, the gym doors slammed open as Potter and Weasley hurried in, clearly late. Mumbling their apologies, they grabbed their equipment and headed over to practice as well. However, since they were the last ones to arrive, every court was occupied… except for the one beside Draco and Blaise.

"Trying to ditch?" Draco sneered. "Can't have the class knowing that you can't even hit the birdie, can you, Potter?"

"Piss off, Malfoy." Harry scowled.

They silenced as Madame Hooch passed them to correct Neville Longbottom, who was swinging his racket as if he was struggling to fight off a swarm of bees. Once she was gone, they glared at each other for a few moments longer before turning their attention back to warming up.

Admittedly, his first few hits were clumsy, but after a few more rallies, Draco was positively beaming. Blaise was good, every blow producing a satisfying crack as the shuttle connected with the netted section of his racket, but he lacked the precision and cleverness Draco had. Every shot he made was either brutal enough to send Blaise hurrying to the far ends of the court, or careful enough to send the birdie tumbling delicately off the edge of the net, nearly impossible to save.

Ten minutes later, Draco snuck a glance at Potter and Weasley. He expected the two of them to be running about and swinging their rackets clumsily, but to his surprise, they weren't terrible either. Weasley was surprisingly good on the defensive, managing to save every kill shot, and Potter was incredibly agile, every movement swift and effortless yet at the same time very powerful.

"Now that everyone's warmed up, let's get some matches started!" Madame Hooch's voice rang across the gym. "We'll be playing doubles today, up to twenty-one points. Let's get moving!"

There was a flurry of movement across the courts as the students rushed to find opponents, and after a moment of bustling, began their competitions. Draco was about to scan the gym to find Crabbe and Goyle, but his gaze flitted past Potter and Weasley… whose gazes at the moment just happened to pass his as well. They stopped, making eye contact, and even though none of them spoke, it was enough.

"Scared, Potter?" Draco sneered.

"You wish." Potter retorted. He and Ron made their way over to the opposite end of the net while Blaise made his way over to Draco's side. The two pairs faced each other, eyes narrowed and faces scowling. Draco flicked the birdie into the air, watching it as it landed. The head was facing their direction. He scooped it up deftly with his racket, nodded to indicate that the game had begun, and served.

The birdie flitted through the air, skimming the surface of the net, beautifully served, but Potter caught it, sending it flying to the end of the court. Since Draco was closer to the front, he guarded the net while Blaise caught the blow, sending the shuttle flying powerfully back. The game begun.

Both sides rallied back and forth. Draco and Blaise were excellent partners, the long years of their friendship enabling them cooperate seamlessly. When one was at the front to guard against net shots, the other immediately shifted to the back to take care of blows that sent the birdie deep into the back of the court. When one moved to the left to save a kill shot, the other automatically guarded the right. Potter and Weasley… as much as Draco hated to admit it, they were good. Weasley was incredible at defense, able to save even the most impossible kill shots, and Potter was ruthless on the offense.

The game continued. Both sides were never more than two points apart, and every round lasted for minutes at a time, neither pair willing to give up the birdie. When they reached the fifteen-point mark, the class had already finished their matches, and seeing the show, gathered around to watch. A loose circle was formed around their court. Every time a point was made, shouts of encouragement filled the gym, but when the game resumed, fell respectfully silent under Madame Hooch's insistence.

Usually, Draco thrived under these situations when he was the center of attention, but this time, all he could feel was anxiety. His shirt clung to his back with sweat. He knew that it was going to be a good fight, but had been confident that he would end up winning. Now, victory was suddenly very uncertain. Looking around, he saw that he wasn't the only one feeling the pressure. Blaise's brow glistened, and Weasley's face was crimson. Though Potter's face remained impassive, his jaw was clenched and there was a tightness to his mouth that hadn't been there before.

Eighteen-seventeen, with Draco and Blaise at the lead. Weasley did an impressive save, flicking the shuttle to their undefended backcourt. Potter followed up with a vicious kill shot that Blaise deflected into the net. Nineteen-eighteen. Draco and Potter rallied furiously; the birdie parallel to the ground as it streaked across the net in a flurry of blows. Potter stumbled, his arm reacting too slowly, and Draco scored.

Nineteen-nineteen. It was now or never.

"Come on, Ron! You can do it, Harry!" Granger called anxiously from the sidelines.

"Show them you got this, Draco!" Pansy cheered.

Draco flashed a smile at her, but his heart was pounding furiously. A part of him knew that even if he lost this round, it wouldn't matter, but at the same time… he couldn't lose. He could almost imagine the cheers the Gryffindors would make after Potter's victory, the respect in his friends' eyes, the gossip that Draco Malfoy could never compare to Harry Potter…

Blaise feinted and served. Potter lunged forward, expecting the birdie to land close to the front, but when it ended up flying past his head, reacted too slowly and was unable to save it. Twenty-nineteen. Blaise feinted and served again, but this time, they were ready. Potter did a drop shot, but Draco saved it at the nick of time. Weasley retaliated by flicking the birdie to the backcourt, but Blaise returned the favor.

Weasley made a mistake. In badminton, it is never a wise idea to send the birdie flying to the midcourt where the opponent could easily make a kill shot, but while saving a drop, Weasley exerted a bit too much strength, and the birdie flew right into Draco's racket. He didn't hesitate as he smashed into it with everything he had, and it was impossible for Potter and Weasley to even dream of the possibility of saving that.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Draco and Blaise emerged victoriously. Draco beamed, laughing wildly in delight as he slammed into Blaise, throwing his arms across his shoulders. Usually, Blaise would have shifted aside awkwardly or pushed him off, but even he was smiling, brimming with pride in their victory.

"I knew you would win!" Pansy shrieked, throwing herself into Draco's arms.

"Could you have expected otherwise?" Draco replied smugly. Triumph swept through him, fizzing through his bloodstream, and in that moment, the nerve-wracking doubt he felt earlier was completely forgotten. "Against these two, was it even a competition to begin with?"

"Watch it, Malfoy." Potter said darkly. "You weren't looking so smug just now."

"Really?" Draco scoffed. Adrenaline was still pumping through his body, his mind scattered with excitement and thrill, and in that moment, he couldn't think straight. All he knew was that Potter was insulting him, but before he could stop himself, the words had already left his mouth. "For the entire game, you could hardly keep your eyes off Weasley's ass to pay attention to-"

In one moment, Draco was standing there talking, but in the next, Potter had slammed into him with the force of a truck, and they tumbled to the ground. Draco landed flat on his back, the air knocked from his lungs, and he gasped, stunned, his brain still struggling to process what had happened. Potter had no such hesitations, punching him in the face, and a blow to the cheekbone was more than enough get snap him back to reality.

Draco roared in outrage and retaliated, covering his face with his arms and rolling to throw Potter off, but he was strong, those fists unrelenting, and everything broke into a full out brawl. Draco struggled beneath, twisting and yelling as he fought to unseat Potter, while Potter kept on punching, every blow leaving his arms stinging and numb. Around them, the class had formed a circle surrounding the fight, some students screaming and shouting in alarm, others cheering them on. Madame Hooch was wailing in despair, pleading with them to stop. A few brave souls grabbed Potter, trying to pull them apart, but Potter was brutal, lashing them back before returning to plummet him.

Draco struck back, his punch catching Potter in the jaw, and the other boy stumbled, loosening his hold. Draco reacted immediately, throwing Potter off and tumbling on top of him, ready to be the one inflicting the pain. However, before he could enjoy this position for long, Potter twisted violently. Staggering, Draco lost his balance as he stumbled to the side, and in moments, Potter was on top of him again.

Draco covered his face with his arms, bracing himself for the blow, but this time, it never came. Hands clenched around his throat, throttling him, and he choked in pain. He couldn't breathe. He needed air, but he couldn't breathe. He struck back, aiming for Potter's face and chest, but those hands around his neck refused to let go. He was gasping, suffocating, dying. His blows were getting weaker, his face flooding with crimson as he struggled for air, but all of a sudden… all he could see were those bright green eyes.

He was looking at Potter's face, staring right into his gaze and… maybe it was the lack of oxygen in his brain, the adrenaline in his bloodstream, and the desperation and fear muddling his emotions, but in that moment… Something changed. Potter's face had been twisted with rage, furious at Draco's insult, but now, there was something different in those wide green eyes. Something like shock. Something like fear. Something that sent a chill of terror and excitement snaking down Draco's spine, because he knew that his eyes held the same message, and that Potter had seen it as well.

A pair of hands grabbed onto Potter's shoulders and pulled him off, but this time, Potter didn't retaliate, allowing himself to be thrown to the side where his friends immediately surrounded him and swallowed him from view. As Draco's vision cleared, he had to blink a few times to make sure that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, because it was Blaise. Blaise's usually impassive face was creased with worry as he pulled Draco up to his feet, holding onto his shoulder and steadying him with he stumbled.

"Are you alright?" Blaise asked. Draco took a few extra seconds to process those words. Was that a trace of concern in his voice?

"I'm fine." Draco said roughly and pushed Blaise's hands off. He leaned down and braced his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths. His heartbeat slowed, the flush receded from his cheeks, and once he felt calmer, he straightened up. His throat was on fire, his larynx throbbing with pain, and he touched his neck gingerly. His fingers were cold against his skin, the coolness numbing the pain slightly, but suddenly, all he could think about were how hot Potter's hands had been moments earlier, and those strangely vivid green eyes…

"This is unacceptable!" Madame Hooch's shrill shout snapped him back to reality, and Draco looked up to see her bearing down on him, her face crimson with rage and wagging a finger furiously in his face. "I have never seen such ridiculous and childish behavior in my life! To the headmaster's office! Both of you! Now!"

Madame Hooch grabbed onto Draco and Potter, her hands grasping their arms tightly, and marched them from the gym. Before they stepped through the door, Draco glanced back. The class was already murmuring, gossiping about the fight, and even from the distance, Draco could already hear Pansy's voice insisting that it was all Potter's fault and that Draco was the clear winner of the brawl. And Blaise… Blaise stood by the side, his face once again bored, but just before the door swung shut, Draco swore he saw a glimmer of a deep sadness flicker across those seemingly emotionless features.

The Headmaster lectured them for an hour before releasing them and sentencing them to a month of detention, but Draco was fine with that. He had plenty of friends more than willing to clean erasers and write lines for him, and there it was immensely satisfying to see Potter staggering down the halls exhausted after laboring under Professor Sprout in the greenhouses. But at the same time… something was irreversibly changed between the two of them. They still hated each other with everything they had, throwing insults and doing everything they can to make each other's life miserable. Yet, every time they saw each other, they would remember the fight, the rage and fury and that strange shift that neither could quite explain… but that didn't matter. Draco refused to dwell on it, and he was sure Potter felt the same. Life continued, and they remained enemies.